THE EVOLVING CITY Ramola D   I SAW HER RISE The woman rose from the twilit well, ................dark, the well ...............................of stairs from the metro, ...............................................in her hand the shuddering and open mouths ................of white arrested flowers, long ...............................stems and waxed engulfing leaves framed ...............................................against the earth and tinsel flick of pink in the pot ................she held, I saw her rise, the lilies ...............................white about her clothes and shoulder pushed ................up against her face, her body pressed ...............................into the substance of that white restraint and edge ................of yellow, faintest orange, tiger ...............................stripe ............................................... her body leaning forward into ................that stemmed chaos of lilies, ................her body working furiously ................at arrival. And I saw her lives cascade ................inside her hands, the ones that held ...............................the echo of her longing, choate, formed ...............................inside the throats of lilies: blue ...............................cup on a sill, shower of rain, hint of marriage in her mouth and its break ................inside her eyes, somewhere a child ...............................falling through her body ...............................into the world: its survival in her space among, between, around ................the selves she must have etched ................carefully into birth: known, watched over, ................loved, and the selves she still attempts to resist: ................their pale insistent hands ................clustering, their faces—like souls themselves, transparent, wistful—I saw her rise ................and hurry forward ................into her future of sudden ................possibility: thick skies and rain ................among the still, the unresisting trees, ...............................................light a rake, gold and flicker, stark ................shudder of light ...............................low against the trees, streaming blind in descent against her breath, light ................in lapse and rise ................inside that hollow choir ................of petals, carousel ................of light, her face still throned ................inside the dusk and violet ................of the stairwell's night, hastening, turned, the lilies trembling, alive— ...............................I saw her rise.     Ramola D received an MFA in poetry in 1991 at George Mason University, after an MBA and BS Physics in India.  Her publication credits include poetry in Agni, Indiana Review, and Northwest Review, and short fiction in Green Mountains Review, Prairie Schooner, and Literal Latte. Her collection of poems Invisible Season co-won the Washington Writers' Publishing House award in 1998. She received an NEA fellowship in poetry in 2005. She lives in Arlington and currently teaches creative writing at George Washington University and The Writer's Center, Bethesda.   Published in Volume 8, Number 4, Fall 2007.   To read more by this author: Ramola D